


Mandalore The Shadow

by The_Dark_Lord_of_Dragon_Kind



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Darth Maul Lives, Death Watch (Star Wars), Gen, Mandalorian Culture, Mandalorian Empire, Mando'a, Past Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Satine Kryze Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25742362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Dark_Lord_of_Dragon_Kind/pseuds/The_Dark_Lord_of_Dragon_Kind
Summary: As Bo Katan said, an outsider could never rule Mandalore. But before Bo Katan can retreat with those loyal to her, one of Maul’s new Kyr’tsad warriors steps in to solve the problem.The Mando’ade, after all, have a long history of adoption, and just because someone starts out as an outsider, it does not mean they will always be an outsider.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 81





	1. Mando'ad

**Author's Note:**

> Would you believe that I'm almost done writing this entire story? It's highly suspicious.

Bo Katan’s declaration echoed through the throne room. Several Deathwatch warriors began backing up, following Bo Katan’s lead.

“That can change,” someone said. Maul looked over to them. He thought the woman’s name was Rook Kast. He couldn’t be sure, though, because she was wearing her beskar armor. She had knelt before him, but now she stood, and turned to face Bo Katan.

“He’s a Sith, Rook Kast,” Bo Katan snarled.

“So?” Rook Kast asked, backing towards Maul. The other kneeling members of deathwatch stood also, facing Bo Katan and her commandos. They were clearly guarding him. “We must not forget the greatest strength of Mandalore. We must not forget how Mandalore the Ultimate saved our culture.”

Maul wasn’t quite sure what Bo Katan meant by that. He knew about Mandalore the Ultimate, of course. There were few who had brought the whole Republic to its knees, and as one of those few, Mandalore the Ultimate was still remembered, even though nearly 4,000 years had passed since his defeat. But Mandalore’s culture shouldn’t have been under threat, since they were able to nearly conquer the whole Republic. In fact, with Mandalore the Ultimate’s defeat, the Mandalorian Clans were scattered, after Revan took the Mandalore’s mask and hid it somewhere. No one knew what happened, but Mandalore the Preserver later found the mask and gathered the clans again, but that was Mandalore the Preserver’s doing, not Mandalore the Ultimate’s.

Rook Kast had backed up all the way to Maul, now. She turned to him, taking off her helmet as she did so. Under one arm, she tucked her helmet, and used the other to put a hand on Maul’s shoulder. She gazed into his eyes.

“Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’vod, Maul,” Rook Kast said seriously. Turning to Savage, she said, “Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’vod, Savage.”

“Neither of them speak Mando’a,” Bo Katan shouted.

“They will learn,” Rook Kast snarled, spinning to face Bo Katan. “Kneel to our Mand’alor!”

To Maul’s shock, all of the previously rebellious warriors knelt before him, even the still fuming Bo Katan.

“Wonderful,” Maul murmured. He began giving orders to smooth the transition of power. But inside, he was very confused. With two nearly identical sentences, Rook Kast had headed off a rebellion. After he had sent everyone off, leaving only himself, his brother and Kast Rook in the room, he turned to her.

“Not that I’m not glad that you stopped that little rebellion before it started,” he began, “but I have no idea what just happened. Do I need to worry about them rebelling?”

“That’s complicated,” Rook Kast answered. Maul would have snapped at her, but she had just prevented his new army from splitting. “Their only issue was that you weren’t Mandalorian, so I made you Mandalorian by adoption. But right now, you are only… officially Mandalorian, I guess, not really Mandalorian. If you don’t prove that you really intend on becoming a real Mandalorian, there will be dissent in the ranks.”

“How did you make me Mandalorian, and how do I prove I’m becoming a Mandalorian?” Maul demanded.

“You’ll just have to learn Mando’a and start wearing Beskar’gam,” Rook Kast explained. “And probably memorize the Resol’nare, but every child memorizes that. And I made you Mandalorian by adopting the two of you as my brothers.”

“Me too?” Savage asked. He sounded… surprised.

“It wasn’t necessary, but yes,” Rook Kast answered, with a small but genuine smile in Savage’s direction. “You two are a team. And you will look fantastic and terrifying in Beskar’gam.”

“You are… my sister, now,” Maul clarified.

“Yes, vod,” Rook Kast said will a smile. “You needed to be adopted, and it didn’t seem like anyone else was going to step up and protect you with their Clan.”

“I won’t have to submit to any clan hierarchy, will I?” Maul asked.

“You are the _Mand’alor_ , the sole ruler of our people,” Rook Kast pointed out. “No one can order you around. They can only bribe you with cookies.”

“I’ve never had a sister before,” Savage said, and smiled at Rook Kast. She grinned in return.


	2. Corruption and Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almec might be addicted to corruption, but being corrupt under a Sith Lord is very different from being corrupt under a pacifist.

Prime Minister Almec was doing his best to survive. When he had suggested that Maul challenge Pre Visla for the throne, he had assumed that Maul would win the duel, but wouldn’t win all of Deathwatch’s support. He certainly hadn’t expected Rook Kast to adopt the new Mand’alor. Now Maul of Clan Kast was the unchallenged Mand’alor, which made it extremely difficult to do anything but follow orders.

Not that Almec had ever planned on betraying Lord Maul, of course, but sometimes there were times when a man might like to have a bit more freedom to make deals.

Like this one with the Jedi Master Obi-wan Kenobi.

“I’m sure we can make a deal,” Master Kenobi said smoothly from Almec’s palm. “All I want is information about Satine. Nobody has to know.”

“He’ll find out,” Almec scoffed.

“Who will?” Kenobi asked. “I thought you were the new leader of Mandalore.”

“…the Mandalore,” Almec answered warily. He knew that if Kenobi came to Mandalore expecting Lord Maul, Lord Maul would know that he had a leak, and that would be bad news for Almec. On the other hand, Kenobi had to know that there was something worse than Almec on Mandalore, if Almec wanted to keep Kenobi away.

“Whoever really killed Pre Vizsla, I presume,” Kenobi drawled.

“The Dutchess killed Pre Vizsla,” Almec lied.

“Please, Almec,” Kenobi sneered. “We both know how well I know Satine. And I can tell you’re lying. Jedi Master, remember.”

“Even through a hologram?” Almec asked, looking disturbed.

“Yes,” Kenobi chuckled. “But it’s a force thing, so you don’t have to worry about your new Mand’alor, who you so clearly fear, doing it to you.”

Almec suppressed a flinch.

“They aren’t a force sensitive, are they?” Kenobi asked worriedly. It was just Almec’s luck that Kenobi had seen his slight flinch.

“Don’t come to Mandalore,” he told Kenobi, ignoring Kenobi’s question. “If you do, the Dutchess will die, and you will die with her. Deathwatch are trained to deal with Jedi. And the Mand’alor is far more dangerous and cunning than Pre Vizsla.”

“Are they a force sensitive?” Kenobi asked again, this time more angerly. “Because if you don’t answer, I will assume they are.”

“The Mand’alor is a Mandalorian,” Almec said instead of giving a yes or no answer. “I don’t think anyone’s tested the Mand’alor.” It was true. It just wasn’t the whole truth.

“So, an untrained force sensitive if they are a force sensitive at all,” Kenobi guessed. He narrowed his eyes at Almec. “But the Mand’alor is frightening enough that you think they might be a force sensitive. How about we make a deal. I’ll send you some beskar, two tons of it, confiscated from criminals, and you take care of Satine.”

“Two tons of beskar?” Almec breathed.

“The Jedi have been collecting beskar from criminals for a long time,” Kenobi explained. “We don’t have much use for it.”

“Deal,” Almec said before he could think better of it. “How will you send the beskar?”

“I have a few reprogramed battle droids,” Kenobi answered. “I’ll send a small scout ship to you piloted by them. The password is roger, roger. Expect the ship within two weeks.”

“Very well,” Almec agreed. “I promise that I will protect the Duchess in exchange for the beskar.”

“Farewell, Prime Minister,” Kenobi said, and disappeared.

Almec sat back and breathed. This was how it started. This was how he had started to become corrupt. But there was far more at stake now. His life was at stake. He would die if the Mand’alor found out that he had hidden something like this from him. And Almec had a horrible certainty that Lord Maul would find out. It’s not like it was easy to hid two tons of beskar.

There was only one way he might make it out alive.

Almec had to figure out how to tell the Mand’alor what he had done without inviting his wrath.

The next day, Almec went to the Mand’alor as he normally did. Lord Maul was wearing vambraces of beskar, but he didn’t seem to have gotten any more armor yet.

“Su cuy’gar, Almec,” Lord Maul greeted him.

“Su cuy’gar, Mand’alor,” Almec answered. He continued to speak in Mando’a. “ _I found two tons of beskar._ ”

“ _And where did you find all this beskar?_ ” Lord Maul asked sharply. Almec could tell that he was already suspicious.

“Kenobi –” Almec began, but was cut off by Maul’s snarl.

“You contacted Kenobi?” Maul demanded, standing and dragging Almec to him using a force chokehold. Almec noticed that when he wanted to make sure he understood everything, like now, he used Basic.

“He contacted me,” Almec gasped. “He threatened to show up if I didn’t give him information or make a deal with him. He made me promise to protect the Duchess in exchange for the beskar.”

Almec fell to his knees in front of Maul as Maul released him.

“Tell me everything,” Maul growled.

Almec did.

It was only after Maul sat back down in his throne that Almec dared stand again.

“Interesting choice of half-truths,” Maul commented thoughtfully.

“I had to think of something that would convince him you weren’t… well, you,” Almec shrugged. “And I’m a politician. That’s what I do for a living, though it’s not normally so outrageous as suggesting a real live Sith Lord isn’t force sensitive.”

“It’s a bit insane,” Maul agreed. “Now, let’s talk about this beskar. I hope you know you aren’t going to be able to keep it.”

“I know, Mand’alor,” Almec sighed. “Right now, I’m just wondering if you’ll make Kenobi think I broke my oath.”

“I think it best if it seems like you did keep your oath,” Maul murmured. “That way, he’ll trust all the half-truths out of your mouth and trust you to be his eyes on Manda’yaim.”

“I think he mostly just wants me to protect the Duchess,” Almec admitted.

“Why?” Maul asked. “How well do they know each other?”

“They spent a year together,” Almec told Lord Maul. “There were rumors that they were in a romantic relationship. And… no one’s ever figured out Korkie Kryze’s bloodline. There were lots of deaths when he would have been born, though, so that might just be a matter of being born during a war.”

“Rook,” Maul called, turning to his sister, “would you please get Mr. Kryze in here?”

“Certainly,” Rook Kast agreed, striding to the door, already barking orders into her comm.

“None of the New Mandalorian children have been particularly… eager to change their ways, but Korkie Kryze is one of the more stubborn ones,” Almec warned him. “Just yesterday, I got a message about how he led his classmates in an escape attempt.”

“I remember that,” Maul said with a frown. “I didn’t get any names, but I ordered any ringleaders placed in solitary. I was going to deal with them after our meeting. I guess I’ll deal with them a little earlier than expected.”

Maul rose and pulled out a long black cloak from behind his throne. He put it on and wrapped the lower half of his face with a black scarf. Then, for good measure, he pulled the hood of his cloak over his head so that his face was entirely shadowed.

The only part of his face that Almec could see were his eyes, which glowed as if they had a light of their own, like two cruel orbs of flame.

“Terrifying,” Almec complemented.

“That’s the idea,” Maul chuckled evilly as he sat back down in the throne.

They didn’t have to wait for long before Rook Kast dragged in Korkie Kryze.

“Who are you?” the boy demanded of Maul, pulling his chained hands away from Rook Kast. He glanced at Almec. “I thought you had taken over Mandalore, you traitor. But _you_ aren’t sitting on the throne.”

“He is the Mand’alor,” Almec answered. “I run his capitol planet for him.”

“What do you want?” Korkie Kryze demanded, glancing between the two.

“Not much, young Kryze,” Maul purred. “Just a few answers to a few questions.”

“You already know everything about our escape attempt,” Korkie Kryze grumbled.

“What was your goal?” Maul demanded; his voice still soft.

“To save the Duchess Satine,” Korkie answered, his head held high as he stood before the Sith Lord’s throne.

“Your… mother?” Maul asked. He sounded genuinely curious, and Almec felt cold, remembering how Kenobi had known when he was lying, even from half-way across the galaxy. There was no doubt that Maul was preventing Korkie from realizing that he needed to speak in half-truths.

“No, my aunt,” Korkie snapped.

“So, those rumors about you being the son of the Duchess Satine Kryze and Jedi Knight Obi-wan Kenobi aren’t true?” Maul asked, leaning forward. Almec was desperately curious about what Maul had learned from the exchange, even though the cold feeling did not dissipate.

“Exactly,” Korkie confirmed. “None of them are true.”

“Fascinating,” Maul murmured. “You lie well, young one. The only way I knew you were lying was through the Force.”

“You aren’t a jedi,” Korkie stated, stepping back into Rook Kast. He stepped to the side, so that he wasn’t bumping up against her armor. “You don’t have the force.”

“I am no jedi,” Maul agreed. “But the jedi do not have a monopoly on the force.” He lit his lightsaber, and it looked like it was made of freshly spilt blood.

Korkie looked horrified, and only Rook Kast’s hand on his sholder stopped him from continuing his retreat.

“You’re a sith,” Korkie gasped.

“I was a sith,” Maul corrected, turning his lightsaber off. “Now I am Mandalore the Shadow.”

“What do you want from me?” Korkie demanded. Almec wondered whether his words and tone stemmed from bravery or ignorance. “Are you going to use me against… my father? Or my mother?”

“I haven’t decided quite yet,” Maul purred, lounging on his throne. “I have plans, of course, but nothing certain yet. Dear sister, was he the only leader of his little escape attempt?”

“Yes,” Rook Kast confirmed. “He did seem to use his roommates as lieutenants, though.”

“Good,” Maul murmured. “Please take him to the prison, and put him in a cell on the opposite side from his mother for a week. And make sure no one tells his friends what has happened to him.”

“You can’t do this!” Korkie exclaimed, struggling against Rook Kast as she began to drag him away. “They’ll think I’m dead!”

“Precisely,” Maul laughed. After Korkie had been dragged away, Maul turned back to Almec, taking off his disguise as he did so. “That was an unusually dramatic morning,” Maul noted. “Now, unless there’s something other dramatic thing, lets get down to normal business.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very certain that Korkie Kryze is the son of Obi-wan Kenobi and the Duchess Satine. I also think that in cannon, the Nite Owls must have helped Korkie and his friends escape, because Maul wouldn’t have let possible enemies just wander around. Korkie is the nephew or son of the Duchess. In this universe, Maul hasn’t decided to lure Obi-wan to Mandalore. I’m not totally certain that he was planning on luring Obi-wan when the Duchess first escaped. And if he was, that was an awful decision, considering he was still in the process of consolidating power. In this universe, if he was even planning on luring Obi-wan, then Rook Kast would have explained to him why it’s a bad idea to convince an enemy to test one’s defenses when one’s power is not assured. So, Maul is being careful. He locked down the Academy and has locked up much of the government while he follows through with Death Watch’s promise of returning Mandalore to their warrior roots. He’s slowly getting his people use to using weapons and wearing armor, and slowly training them, so that by the time any outsiders try to mess with Mandalore, every Mandalorian is ready to go to war.  
> I just wish Maul would tell me what he has planned for Korkie.


	3. Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maul kicks off his plan for getting revenge on his old master.

Rook Kast sat still, shock in her eyes.

“The Chancellor?” she asked Maul. “How could this happen? Why didn’t the Jedi kill him?”

“The Jedi didn’t realize he is a Sith,” Maul explained, taking another bite of his cookie. It was frankly embarrassing how easily Rook had managed to use cookies to bribe Maul to do things. “And being a Sith gives Darth Sidious a major advantage in the Senate.”

“If they Jedi did know, wouldn’t they try to take your old master out?” Rook asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Maul dismissed her question. “They don’t know.”

“You could tell them,” Rook pointed out. “Either anonymously, or by calling them up in the middle of one of their meetings or something like that.”

“Rook Kast, you are brilliant,” Maul breathed. “Why didn’t I think about it?”

“You’re too used to acting in the shadows, vod” Rook suggested. “You are even called Mand’alor the Shadow, now.”

“True,” Maul laughed. “This is insane.”

“We will need to make sure, even more than before, that no one finds out that you are the Mand’alor,” Rook pointed out.

“I won’t be able to get revenge on Kenobi,” Maul grumbled.

“I think it’s better to get revenge on Sidious than on a random Jedi Knight,” Rook said with a shrug. “Sidious sounds like more of a threat.”

“By far,” Maul agreed. “Let’s see if we can convince the Jedi Council to recognize the greatest threat to the galaxy.”

It happened during a council meeting. After much of the council business, there was another call, waiting to be answered, this one without any identifying information.

“Curious, that is,” Yoda noted, pressing the button. Obi-wan braced himself for some politician or other random annoyance.

Maul appeared, detailed in blue, lounging in an armchair. A blanket was spread over his legs, obscuring whatever repairs had been done. Obi-wan thought that they were shorter, but he couldn’t be certain.

“Darth Maul,” Obi-wan greeted him darkly. Once again, the zabrack had failed to stay dead. At least this time, he seemed less insane.

“Just Maul, please,” Maul said in answer, grinning aggressively at Obi-wan. Obi-wan could tell that Maul had not forgiven him, not that Obi-wan thought he would have. But this, so far, was much tamer than normal.

“Really?” Obi-wan asked, raising one eyebrow in the most insolent manner possible.

“I was replaced,” Maul sneered, and there was the fury and hatred Obi-wan had expected. But, shockingly, it did not seem to be aimed and Obi-wan at all. “Darth sidious replaced me with that fallen jedi pretender, Dooku,” Maul continued. “I don’t need the sith any more. But that’s not why I called. We can help each other.”

“Help each other, we cannot,” Yoda told him firmly as Obi-wan reeled. Maul was offering to _help the jedi order?_ The very idea was insane.

“Don’t be so certain,” Maul growled, smiling, in a strange imitation of the last time they had met. “I want Darth sidous to rule the galaxy as much as you do. Which is to say, it would mean my death. And if something does not change, Darth Sidious will rule the galaxy. I want you to kill Sidious, since I cannot. He is too strong for me to kill, or I would do this myself. And I would imagine that you don’t want to be puppets in a war created and controlled by the Sith.”

“We might not be able to even reach the planet he’s on, if you even know where he is,” Obi-wan warned. “If, that is, we decide to trust you.”

“I would expect that you can get from the Jedi temple to the Senate Dome,” Maul sneered, and almost laughed at their shock. Obi-wan could not help but think back to right before the start of the clone wars, when Dooku had told him that the sith controlled the senate. “As for the issue of trust,” Maul continued, “you have no reason to trust me. I hope only to open your eyes enough to allow you to see the truth of the Grand Plan of the Sith. Think, for a moment of who benefited from the Naboo crisis,” Maul ordered them. Obi-wan frowned. He didn’t think anyone had benefited. But Maul continued. “The Trade Federation didn’t benefit, the Queen didn’t benefit, the Gungans didn’t benefit, and the Queen’s people didn’t benefit. I got cut in half and Kenobi lost his master. The only one who benefited was Naboo’s senator, who used the suffering of his people to get the sympathy vote to make himself chancellor.”

“Did you just accuse the Chancellor of the Republic of being a Sith Lord?” Mace asked.

“Yes,” Maul confirmed.

“Why would he want a war?” Obi-wan asked. “He’s the most powerful man in the galaxy, and war just weakens the Republic.”

“Because, Kenobi,” Maul snarled, “he wants to become the Emperor of the Galaxy.”

“I should have seen that coming,” Obi-wan admitted. “That’s such a Sith thing to want.”

“The Sith invented trying to take over the galaxy,” Maul stated with some strange emotion. Obi-wan couldn’t tell what it was, other than some strange mix of anger, sorrow, longing, and pride. Obi-wan got the sense that Maul was a bit conflicted on his decision to no longer lay a claim on the title of Darth.

“And they invented failing to conquer the galaxy,” Obi-wan pointed out, trying to be gentle.

“If Sidious succeeds, he will have invented succeeding in conquering the galaxy,” Maul countered grimly.

“How can we get proof?” Obi-wan asked.

“Sidioius covers his tracks well,” Maul said with a shrug. “I cannot help you there, unfortunately. All I know is that he is pulling all the strings of the war. And that he will kill all of us when the time is right for him. Well, all of us except Skywalker. Last time I was taking orders from him – during the Naboo crisis – he wanted Skywalker as his apprentice.”

“Thank you for telling us,” Mace interrupted. “I think the Jedi Council will have to deliberate before we make any decisions. But rest assured, Maul, we will take your words into account.”

“Oh, joy,” Maul sneered. “Perhaps the Jedi might save us all. I wish you luck, and I suggest sending at least six of your best after Sidious when you decide to kill him. And don’t try to take him captive, because that’s just asking for trouble.”

With that, Maul’s hologram blinked out. The Jedi Council looked at each other. Obi-wan knew that he would not be getting away from the deliberations this time. He said good bye to what little sleep he had been planning on getting.

The Mand’alor turned off the holograms and ended the call with one flick of his hand.

“Nice,” Rook complimented, moving out into the cargo hold of the ship they had been calling from. “Time to go back to Mandalore?”

“Yes,” Maul agreed. He stood, casting off the cloth that had hidden his legs. For a third time they had been remade, this time in beskar. They were painted entirely white, with gold finishing. White for a new start, gold for revenge.

They abandoned the ship in the place they had made the call from. It was an uninhabited, uninhabitable star system. After the Mandalore and his people left, the ship orbited the sun for a few thousand years, untouched by the few pirates and smugglers who dropped out of Hyperspace in that system. Eventually, the ship’s orbit degraded, and the ship fell into the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are welcome and constructive criticism is appreciated


	4. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Korkie returns to save the day. Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will likely be more erratic from here on out, since I no longer am supposed to be doing anything on this website. Nevertheless, they will happen. Because if I wake up early enough, nobody is awake to tell me to stop.

It was the morning, two weeks after Korkie had been captured when he stumbled back into their shared bedroom, shoved by a Deathwatch commando. The door was slammed shut after them.

Korkie looked weary, Soniee thought. He was slumping, and seemed to be wearing a Deathwatch bodysuit. Korkie looked around and just sighed in relief.

“Korkie!” Soniee greeted him. “We’ve been so worried! Where have you been?”

“On the opposite side of the Royal Prison from my Aunt,” Korkie answered softly. “Did you think I was dead?”

“We were worried,” Soniee repeated. “We didn’t talk about it, but I was worried about… that possibility.”

“That was his plan,” Korkie said, sighing and throwing himself onto his bed. “He wanted to make you think about the possibility of my execution, so that we would be more hesitant to escape in the future.”

“The Prime Minister?” Amis asked. “Almec?”

“No,” Korkie said, closing his eyes. “Almec is nothing but a puppet. It’s good to be back with you guys. Keep talking. I didn’t get any human interaction, except for the Deathwatch commandos, who patrolled the prison, and they didn’t exactly talk to me at all.”

“Ok, but who’s pulling the strings?” Amis asked. “If Almec is a puppet…”

“I don’t know his name,” Korkie said darkly. “He hid his face and interrogated me. He could tell when I was lying… through the force.”

“Are we being oppressed by a Jedi?” Lagos asked, incredulously. “I thought-”

“No,” Korkie interrupted her. “We’re being oppressed by an ex-Sith. Apparently, he likes the title of Mand’alor more than the title of Sith Lord, but that doesn’t stop him from using the force to figure out that I’m the son of Satine and Jedi Knight Obi-wan Kenobi.”

“What?” Soniee gasped. “Wait…”

“Yeah,” Korkie sighed. “I didn’t think it was a good idea to leave my friends in the dark when my enemies already know about my parentage.”

“What was he like?” Amis asked. “The dar’jetii Mand’alor, I mean.”

“He seemed… intelligent,” Korkie offered. “He waited to tell me that he was force sensitive. He didn’t tell me until I had lied to him a whole bunch, so he was able to get me to make real lies, instead of using half truths, like the legends say you should speak in to a force sensitive. And then he was clearly counting on causing some fear and stress for you by keeping my situation secret.”

“That’s not good news,” Lagos sighed. “But surely, Deathwatch wasn’t just… following him. He might be a dar’jetii, not a jetii, but he’s still an outsider. Wouldn’t their pride prevent them from following him?”

“I couldn’t tell,” Korkie admitted. “Deathwatch didn’t speak with me while I was in prison, and the dar’jetii didn’t really give me a whole bunch of information.”

“Regardless, we need to do something about this,” Soniee pointed out. “I say we start with the duchess. The Jedi council would be interested, I think, in the fact that a dar’jetii is ruling Manda’yaim. And the duchess, I think, is the best person to inform them.”

“I don’t know if they’ve even met,” Korkie countered. “The duchess has been in prison since Vizla took over, and I’m not sure she’s been out, or if the new Mand’alor had visited her, since she was imprisoned.”

“She can vouch for us, for you,” Lagos suggested. “The Jetiise are weird about family, so I don’t think telling them that you are the duchess’s nephew or son will help. And telling them that you are the son of one of theirs might even make things worse. But a planetary ruler has to be respected, no matter if she’s been deposed.”

“True,” Korkie agreed, finally sitting up. He seemed more energetic suddenly, as if, having been given a purpose again, he had found a new reason to fight. “And I know something of where my aunt is, since I was placed on the opposite end. We can use that.”

“We should get disguises,” Amis suggested. “That way, we’ll be able to hide among them.”

“Armor?” Soniee asked, wrinkling her nose. “Isn’t that against New Mandalorian rules?”

“Of course,” Korkie agreed. “But I don’t think we have a choice. If we don’t wear armor, we’ll get shot down. And as little as I don’t like looking like Deathwatch, I don’t think we’ll get very far looking like enemies of Deathwatch. Now, the only question on my mind is how will we get some armor?”

In the end, it was not as sneaky a plan as they had hoped.

In order to get enough beskar’gam, they had to knock out four Deathwatch commandos who were roughly the right size. That meant knocking out many more Deathwatch commandos. And the only way to do that, was to cause a second escape attempt. Although, this time, it was more of a riot.

Korkie had Soniee organize the breakout. She hacked into the announcement system and played a speech Korkie had recorded, commanding the other students to prepare themselves for a second escape attempt. Then, Soniee unlocked every single door in the building, and all hell broke loose.

There were not enough Deathwatch commandos to control every single student in building. They had been carefully controlling how many students were out of their rooms at any given time. And given the amount of time it took to travel between the Academy and Sundari, the students had enough time to knock out several Deathwatch commandos and get the armor to the four.

The four friends fled, leaving a few other students in charge, with strict orders to surrender when reinforcements got there. About a third of the students scattered, to make sure Deathwatch would have their hands full tracking down all the students. The Academy, after all, was for training the future leaders of Mandalore, and they were therefore some of the best people to raise a rebellion. Only those who had already graduated were better positioned to cause change, but many of them had been captured during the regime change. Others, Soniee knew, must be working for Deathwatch now, to prevent important services from stopping or simply to save their own skins.

The four roommates stole a few speeders and flew towards Sundari in their stolen armor. Both Korkie and Lagos had jetpacks, but they didn’t exactly know how to use them. Jetpacks required practice and skill to use, which none of the students of the Academy had.

They were listening to Deathwatch comms. By the time they had reached Sundari, the Academy had been secured and Deathwatch commandos were searching the surrounding area for escaped students. Fortunately, the chaos had allowed for Korkie’s escape to go unnoticed.

“Mand’alor wants to know if Korkie Kryze is acounted for,” a female voice barked over the comm as Korkie stepped into Sundari. Korkie froze.

“Has any one seen Korkie Kryze?” someone else demanded. There was silence.

“He is not one of the students under control, Kast,” another voice informed all of Deathwatch.

Korkie continued moving, exchanging glances with his friends through the iconic T-shaped visors.

“If anyone finds Kryze, alert me and engage,” the first voice ordered. There was a pause and then she spoke again. “The Mand’alor says he may be with his friends. If that is the case, make sure to keep an eye on his friends, but prioritize Kryze.”

Korkie and his friends exchanged even more glances, and hurried onward, towards the Royal Prison.

It was quite clear, when they got there, that it was a good idea to use Deathwatch beskar’gam. There weren’t many Deathwatch commandos around, but it was certainly many more than the four of them could ever defeat. They had the disadvantage in both training and numbers.

But because of the armor, they were able to simply fly up, bluff about orders, and then walk deeper into the prison, towards where Korkie knew the Duchess would be.

The prison was dark, though it was filled with glass. The glass looked into empty cells, and so the only light came from the glowing panels that lined the halls. Time seemed slower in there, as they searched for the Duchess. It didn’t seem like long before they found her.

“Auntie Satine!” Korkie exclaimed, whispering, as he took off his helmet. Soniee quickly got the door open. “We’re here to rescue you.”

“Korkie,” Satine breathed. “Thank you, all. Is Deathwatch still in charge?”

“Yes, but a dar’jetii is leading them, now,” Korkie told her. “We think we can get the Jetiise to come and take out the dar’jetii.”

“Sounds like an excellent plan,” Satine said as she walked out of her cell. “Well, then, how are we getting off here?”

“We should probably get you a disguise,” Amis suggested.

“If we run into a single or a pair of Deathwatch commando, we’ll take the chance,” Korkie decided. “If we run into more, we’ll just bluff our way out.”

They started to move away, when they heard the quiet roar of a jetpack, and a Deathwatch commando flew up to their level.

“They’re here, vod,” she called down. Korkie recognized her as the Deathwatch commando who had brought him before the new Mand’alor, and he recognized her voice as the one who had been relaying the Mand’alor’s orders. They had called her Kast, he remembered.

Another commando flew onto the ledge, though his armor was painted entirely in white and gold. He ignited the darksaber, and Korkie knew then that this was no commando. He wore no jetpack: he had jumped using the force. The white, representing a new beginning, was because he had been a sith lord recently. The gold was likely a nod to his past as a sith lord: sith were all about revenge, after all. And he carried the Darksaber, taken from Pre Vizla along with control over Deathwatch. This was none other than the new Mand’alor.

“Hello,” Korkie said, painfully aware that he was standing there, in front of someone who could likely recognize him, in full Deathwatch armor, without his stolen helmet one. “You look like you’re in a rush. We’ll just get out of your way.” Korkie started moving way from them, pulling his aunt along.

He stopped when his feet lifted off the floor, and he could no longer breath. Korkie scratched at his throat as he was dragged through the air by the Force. The Mand’alor caught him, his armored hands replacing the unseen force that had been choking Korkie a moment before.

Korkie dangled there, gasping for breath. He saw in the reflections of the glass that had his friends and aunt had taken a few steps back, but all three of his friends had drawn their stolen blasters, and were pointing them at the Mand’alor.

“How witty,” the Mand’alor drawled. “You must get that from Kenobi.”

“Release him!” Satine ordered the Mand’alor.

“Only if you go back in your cell, Duchess,” the Mand’alor said challengingly.

Satine quickly jumped back into her cell. The door swept shut, and the Mand’alor dropped Korkie, who scrambled backwards, away from the Mand’alor.

“Surrender,” the Mand’alor ordered. “If you don’t, I’ll kill you all.”

“If we surrender, will you refrain from hurting any of us, including my aunt?” Korkie asked, standing up when he was right in front of his friends.

“You are wise to ask that,” the Mand’alor laughed. “You must get that from your mother,” He said as he gestured to Satine. “I will not hurt any of you, if you surrender.”

“What do you know about Korkie’s parentage?” Satine demanded.

“Korkie is a good liar, but he doesn’t know how to lie to a Force-sensitive,” the Mand’alor answered without answering. “Well? Are you surrendering, or am I killing you?”

“He knows everything,” Korkie admitted. “We will surrender. Um… how do we surrender?”

Both the Mand’alor and Kast facepalmed. Apparently, they hadn’t ever come across anyone who didn’t know how to surrender. Well, it wasn’t Korkie’s fault he grew up as a pacifist, without surrendering or forcing people to surrender.

Korkie was laying on the hard bed in his cell next to his mother, trying, pretending to sleep, when the Mand’alor returned.

“Mandalore,” Satine greeted him with the Basic pronunciation of his title.

“Duchess,” the Mand’alor answered.

“Even though I was not able to contact the Jedi council, I am certain the Jedi will hear about this and come to my rescue,” Satine said firmly. “I suggest you let me leave Mandalore.”

“I believe the Jedi will be too busy taking care of Darth Sidious to care much about you,” the Mand’alor told them softly. “And if you think Kenobi will be any help because of his attachment to you, think again. He has already contacted Almec and attempted to bribe Almec for your safety. I do appreciate the beskar he sent, but that is no does not mean you will be safe, duchess.”

“Almec seems to have learned not to be corrupt,” Satine noted, surprised. “I hadn’t realized he has been reformed.”

“Or, perhaps he simply values his life too much to endanger it by crossing an ex-Sith lord,” the Mand’alor suggested. Korkie could hear the grin in the man’s voice. “He was quite worried that I’d kill him for making the deal.”

“Who is Darth Sidious?” Satine asked.

“My former Master,” the Mand’alor answered. Korkie could hear the lack of smile in his voice. “He is Dooku’s master, now, but you would know him better as the Chancellor of the republic.”

“The Jedi don’t know that, do they?” Satine demanded, her eyes wide. She had sat up and was totally focused on the Mand’alor.

“They didn’t,” the Mand’alor laughed darkly. “But I have told them. Either they will manage to kill him, or he will conquer the entire galaxy, rule it as an empire, and kill every single jedi currently alive. But enough about the outside galaxy. I want to talk to you about Manda’yaim, and your place here.”

“What do you mean?” Satine asked. “Are you not going to simply keep me here or kill me?”

“Not at all, Duchess,” the Mand’alor said. “I have plans for you. You see, I don’t think it’s very efficient to keep people locked up when they could be working for me. And you are well known as someone who is good at diplomacy. You are a politician. And I have very, very few politicians who are both as good as you and who are working for me.”

“I will not serve you, or any regime of warriors,” Satine sneered. “I’d rather die.”

“I won’t kill you,” the Mand’alor said with a disturbing emphasis on the final word. “But your son… well, that is a different story.”

“Are you threatening to kill Korkie?” Satine whispered. “If I don’t work for you, you’ll kill Korkie?”

“Precisely,” the Mand’alor confirmed. “I’m so glad you understand.”

“I’ll work for you,” Satine said softly. Korkie felt like he was about to throw up. If he hadn’t lied so plainly, if he had figured out a way to trick the Mand’alor into believing that Satine was his aunt, would the Mand’alor be threatening him to force Satine to obey? “I wish you had never found out that Korkie is my son,” Satine wispered. It seemed that Satine agreed with him.

“I would have threatened him anyways,” the Mand’alor told her. “Threatening a son is more effective than threatening a nephew, but threatening a nephew is effective nonetheless.”

“You are evil,” Satine told the Mand’alor.

“What a thing to say to your new Mand’alor,” the Mand’alor gasped. “Even if it is true,” he continued and then laughed sharply. It took Korkie a few moments to realize that the Mand’alor had just made a joke. “I’ll send a few of my commandos to bring you and your son to your new quarters.”

“Wait,” Satine demanded. “What will my position be?”

“First of all, you will tell me where you hid the beskar you confiscated. But, other than that, you will retain your title of Duchess,” the Mand’alor informed her. “However, you will control the position of my Chief Diplomat, and you will be responsible for bringing new planets into the Mandalorian Empire peacefully. Those you manage to conquer with your words will be spared the pain of being conquered by Deathwatch. I think that will be incentivizing for you, won’t it, Duchess?”

“It is,” Satine admitted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dar'jetii means sith  
> Mand'alor means the ruler of Mandalore, though it is also written as Mandalore  
> jetiise means the Republic, or the plural of jetii, which means a Jedi.
> 
> This chapter is based largely on my favorite clone wars episode. I wanted to explore how it might of gone if Maul was slightly more stable and Bo Katan wasn't helping.


	5. The Galaxy Is A Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unknown parties have assassinated the Chancellor, but the war effort is going better, somehow. Isn't that odd? Anakin slips up, and Obi-wan has to stop himself from coming to any really obvious conclusions. And finally, a strange alliance makes Obi-wan come up with a truly disturbing theory.
> 
> In other words, these are the changes in the galaxy, from someone else's view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has taken me a while to post this, hasn't it. I'm trying to complete college applications before school starts, so I've been distracted and stressed. Probably more stressed than I should be, admittedly. I squandered most of the summer doing things like enjoying myself and having fun.

The galaxy was a nightmare. That much was extremely clear. The Chancellor of the Galactic Republic had been a Sith Lord, controlling both sides of the war. With him dead, the Separatists seemed even bolder and even more excited about war: all they knew was that the Chancellor of the Galactic Republic had been assassinated by an unknown party. On the Republic side, the Senate had become slightly less irritating, and were giving the Jedi more free reign. Obi-wan was happy with that, of course, but at the same time, the Jedi Order seemed more ready for war as well. Their vision was completely unclouded for the first time in centuries, and the younger generations were flourishing in a distinctively militant way. Obi-wan remembered how the Jedi Order was when he was a padawan. It hadn’t been perfect, of course, but he didn’t like where it was going. The younglings no longer spoke of who they would save. They spoke of the planet’s they’d conquer. They didn’t use those terms, of course, – they called it liberation – but Obi-wan felt that the Order was not changing for the better. He knew what liberation could mean, and it wasn’t always liberation. But worst of all was that the chaos of war was spreading.

There was some sort of black market, smugglers and pirates war. The Hutts were arming, and the Pikes and the Black Sun had joined to create something called the Shadow Collective. The new Shadow Collective was challenging the Hutts, and Obi-wan worried that it would turn into a full blown war. The Mandalore sector also had a war brewing. With the Duchess Satine overthrown, the more violent sections of their society were rearming and apparently preparing for war. Obi-wan knew that the Jedi Council only hoped that they wouldn’t ally with the separatists. Obi-wan, on the other hand, hoped that Satine would be safe, that she would survive. Obi-wan itched to go to her rescue, but he was needed. First it had been for the war effort, then for the assassination of Darth Sidious, and then for the war effort again.

“I don’t believe he was a Sith Lord,” Anakin snapped, interrupting Obi-wan’s thoughts. “What evidence did you have to kill him, besides the word of a Sith Lord?”

“A former Sith Lord,” Mace corrected. “And I think most people cannot throw sith lightning, as the Chancellor did.”

“Anakin,” Obi-wan sighed. “He was a politician. You know how untrustworthy politicians are. It’s not too surprising that he was a Sith Lord. Both politicians and Sith Lords care only about getting more power.”

“My wife is a politician, and she only acquires power in order to do good in the galaxy!” Anakin shouted. There was a moment of silence as a the Jedi Council processed what Anakin had just said.

“Married, you are?” Yoda demanded.

“Uh...” Anakin seemed to have realized what he had just said. “I’m a bit emotional. I’m just going to go meditate.” He darted out of the council chambers.

“I was not aware of that,” Obi-wan denied and everyone else in the council turned to look at him. “He’s a knight, now. I don’t always know what he’s getting up to.”

“A big thing, getting married is,” Yoda countered. “Hard to hide, weddings generally are.”

“He did not invite me,” Obi-wan told them.

“Find out who married, Anakin did, we must,” Yoda declared. “A politician, she is. To know more, we need.”

And then there was that. The galaxy was truly a nightmare. Obi-wan tried not to think about the fact that Padme Amidala and Anakin knew each other almost too well.

It was two week later when Obi-wan learned the good news. Not only was the Duchess Satine alive and well, but Mandalore was not allying with the Separatists. Of course, everything wasn’t perfect. Satine was still the Duchess of Mandalore, but that position now meant more of a diplomat’s position. And the Duchess had been reaching out to Republic, Separatist, and Hutt planets alike, offering a new option. Not a Galactic Republic, or a Confederacy of independent systems, but a Mandalorian Empire, lead by a mysterious Mandalore the Shadow. Obi-wan knew something was very wrong.

Deathwatch, who Obi-wan had assumed was in control, wanted a Mandalorian Empire. But they wanted war, not diplomacy. And Deathwatch wouldn’t put their defeated enemy at the head of a diplomatic effort. Something else was afoot. Obi-wan wanted to know who the Mandalore was. Because the Mandalore had been someone, before they became the Mandalore. Obi-wan knew they must have been the one who killed Deathwatch’s Pre Vizla. Obi-wan did not really believe that they were a member of Deathwatch. For all of Deathwatch’s problems, they had not gone through that much internal strife. As far as Obi-wan could tell, Deathwatch was not only loyal to their cause; they were also loyal to Pre Vizla, personally. So they were unlikely to challenge him, especially when Pre Vizla’s plans had finally borne fruit. So Obi-wan guessed that Mandalore the Shadow was not one of Deathwatch, but a Mandalorian from a different group. But from which group, Obi-wan could not guess.

The war ground on. The Republic and the Separatists tried to court Mandalore as its empire grew more and more powerful. Not only from the Duchess’s efforts, though. Deathwatch had shown up in shocking places, mostly in Hutt space. Obi-wan was worried. It did seem like a Mandalorian Empire was rising. But, for the first time since the war began, it felt like they Republic was making major progress. The stalemate had ended. The separatists were being pushed back. Apparently, being ordered around by a Sith Lord who had a vested interest in keeping the war going was not conductive to winning said war. So the Republic had decided to ignore the growing Mandalorian Empire in favor of finally destroying the Separatist threat.

It wasn’t the worst idea, Obi-wan had to admit. The Jedi Order was stretched thin as it was. It would be difficult to fight two powers at once, and it might force the two into an alliance. But at the same time, no one had forgotten who the Mandalorians were. Coruscant had been sacked very few times in its history, and the only people who had managed the feat were the Sith and the Mandalorians. Obi-wan did not think it wise to ignore the Mandalorian Empire’s blatant poaching of Republic worlds. Nor, Obi-wan thought, was it a good idea to ignore the fact that Deathwatch’s idea of what Mandalore should be doing involved building a Mandalorian Empire and then conquering the galaxy. If that didn’t ring alarm bells, Obi-wan didn’t know what would.

Anakin, at least, was doing better. He seemed very happy that the council was seeking proof of his marriage, instead of simply throwing him out the door. Anakin’s new story was that there was someone he wanted to be his wife, but they hadn’t yet talked about it. The Jedi council couldn’t throw someone out for wanting to marry someone, so Anakin’s place as the Hero With No Fear was safe. Obi-wan feared that his former Padawan would be even more unbalanced by this turn of events, but Anakin was doing better. Obi-wan could not help but remember what Maul had said: that Sidious had wanted Anakin as his apprentice since the Naboo crisis. It seemed as if Palpatine had been manipulating Anakin to be more and more like the Sith Apprentice Sidious had wanted him to be. Which might have been part of the reason Anakin had married: Palpatine would have been encouraging Anakin to be rebellious.

“General Kenobi?” a clone interrupted Obi-wan’s brooding. “I have something to tell you. Something big.”

“Fives, isn’t it?” Obi-wan asked. At the clone’s nod, Obi-wan gestured for him to come into the office and take a seat. “Tell me about it.”

“Well, you remember the incident when a clone turned on his jedi general and killed her, while repeating ‘good soldiers follow orders’?” Fives asked. “I believe I have figured out why that happened. We have chips in our heads, and even though the Kamoians say it’s to prevent aggression, I believe it has a far more sinister purpose: to turn us clones into Jedi-killing meat clankers.”

“What evidence have you found?” Obi-wan asked, leaning forward. He wouldn’t have believed it a handful of weeks ago, but learning that the leader of the Republic was a Sith Lord who wanted to destroy the Jedi Order could change a person’s outlook. Who knew how deep the Sith Lord’s plots went.

The Sith Lord’s plots went very, very deep. It turned out that Fives was right. The clones really were supposed to kill off all the Jedi at a single command from the Supreme Chancellor.

It took four months before all the Clones’ chips were out. The Jedi Council ordered an occupation of Kamino. In short, the Galaxy was a nightmare. Obi-wan did not get a single chance to sleep for a full night for the entire time. Anakin seemed extremely angry at the fact that the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic had created a sort of kill switch that would turn the clones into meat clankers, as the clones described it. Obi-wan had noticed him pacing around, muttering under his breath about what the Chancellor deserved. Padme Amidala also seemed to believe that what had happened was a terrible thing. She had made several bills attempting to give the clones sentient rights and to prevent the secret of how to make the chips from getting out. She had absolutely destroyed every attempt that the Hutts made to find out how to make the chips, and Anakin had seemed very gratified when Padme had shouted down a few people.

Obi-wan didn’t know what was going on. He only knew that the galaxy was a nightmare. It was true, and that was the only explanation for the fact that the Hutts had attacked Ryloth because the Shadow Collective had decided to have a large meeting there. Republic forces were too far away to get there in time, but that was just fine, because it was a trap for the Hutts, anyways. Deathwatch had destroyed a significant part of the Hutt’s war fleets and many of those who had fled were destroyed by Shadow Collective ships. The Mandalorian Empire had expanded once again, and they had a new ally in the Shadow Collective.

Obi-wan was once again reminded of his suspicions of the Mandalore. Mandalore the Shadow couldn’t be part of Deathwatch, even though he had given Deathwatch a massive role as the Mandalorian Empire’s army. Deathwatch, or anyone who was part of Deathwatch, would not have decided to work with petty criminals and their criminal syndicates. Nor would the New Mandalorians. The True Mandalorians, devastated though they were, would certainly not have made such a move. In fact, Obi-wan couldn’t see any Mandalorian allying with criminals.

Obi-wan pulled up a few holos of Mandalore the Shadow and looked closer at them. At first glance, the Mandalore looked like any other Mandalorian in Beskar’gam. The T-shaped visor obscured the Mandalore’s face, and his armor hid any other identifying characteristics. They said that Mandalore the Shadow had painted his armor white and gold. Obi-wan searched his memories and remembered that gold was the color of revenge in Mandalorian culture. But what did white mean? Didn’t it mean a new beginning? Obi-wan thought that sounded about right. White, Obi-wan suddenly remembered, was cin, as in cin vhetin, which was when someone became a Mandalorian. That suggested that the Mandalore hadn’t been a Mandalorian all his life. In fact, it suggested that he had recently become a Mandalorian. So, who had he been before? Obi-wan felt a hint of unease, though he didn’t know the origin of his feeling.

Obi-wan looked carefully at the armor that encased the Mandalore. He noticed that it was mostly in the Deathwatch style – except for his legs. After Satine had confiscated all the Mandalorian armor, there had been a lack of beskar. Some Mandalorians had taken to wearing durasteel armor, and some had taken to using less beskar for their armor. Deathwatch had taken the second route, using beskar from the mines of Concordia. Instead of full body, heavy armor, they left their upper arms and thighs exposed. But at the Mandalore’s legs, the armor seemed to be lighter, less bulky. It was normal, of course, to have less bulky armor on the legs, but at the same time, it looked more armored. The entire leg was armored, instead of just the shin and the knees and boots. Deathwatch had a habit of only armoring the thighs with armor-weave, not with beskar. Yet the Mandalore, despite wearing the Deathwatch style on his upper body, had full armor for his lower body. Yet the armor of his lower body hugged his legs too closely as if the Mandalore’s legs were unusually thin.

Obi-wan felt cold as he looked closer at the joint between the Mandalore’s legs and his feet. It was strange, as if the beskar itself made up the entire joint. As if the Mandalore had once lost both his feet. Did the Mandalore really have prosthetic feet made out of beskar? Wouldn’t that prevent the Mandalore from being as good a fighter?

It was possible that it wouldn’t , Obi-wan guessed. Maul, after all, had entirely prosthetic legs, and he had only gotten better since Obi-wan cut off his legs. Obi-wan remembered the last time he had seen Maul. The Zabrak had obtained new legs that were more humanoid than his last set. But he had hidden them…

Why had he hidden his legs? Obi-wan’s heart froze as his eyes snapped to the Mandalore’s thigh armor.

“No,” he muttered. “It’s impossible.”

But the idea could not leave his mind.

Maul was powerful enough that he would be able to easily defeat Pre Vizla. He had conquered pirates before – Obi-wan remembered very clearly that Hondo Onaka had been affected. Maul would see no issues with taking over several criminal syndicates and forcing Deathwatch to work with them. Gold was for revenge, and it was something that Maul had valued greatly. Obi-wan seemed to recall that Maul had implied that his desire for revenge against Obi-wan was all that kept him alive when he was cut in half. If Maul was the Mandalore, it would explain the fact that Maul had hidden his legs during his meeting with the Jedi Council. It would explain why Deathwatch and the Mandalorian Empire was allying a criminal syndicate. It would explain why Satine had been given the power to peacefully bring planets into the Mandalorian Empire: Obi-wan didn’t think Maul had much honor or felt strongly about winning things through war. Maul’s master had been fine with winning all his power through trickery. Maul, Obi-wan guessed, would be fine with winning some power through diplomacy. And it would explain why the Mandalorian Empire wasn’t allying with either the Separatists or the Republic: the Separatists were led by the man Maul had been replaced by and the Republic was the realm of the Jedi and the Republic loved Obi-wan.

Obi-wan turned off his hologram of the Mandalore and holocalled Yoda. When Yoda appeared in the blue of the hologram, Obi-wan spoke.

“What if Maul is the Mandalore?” he asked.

“Reasons, to suspect this, you have?” Yoda asked.

“Only a few,” Obi-wan admitted. “But it would explain a few things.”

“Tell me, you should,” Yoda said.

Obi-wan began to explain his thought process. Yoda frowned and hummed at the appropriate points. When Obi-wan finished, Yoda was silent for a while.

“Explains things, it does,” Yoda agreed, “and disturbing, it is.”

“We don’t know for certain…” Obi-wan began.

“For certain that Sith, Palpatine was, we were not,” Yoda countered. “Careful, we must be, to not ignore coincidences. Sometimes coincidences, they are not.”

“True, Master Yoda,” Obi-wan agreed. “But at the same time, we can’t act without being certain. If we attack and Maul isn’t the Mandalore, we just embarrass ourselves and get into a possibly unnecessary war with Mandalore.”

“You, it was not, who was warning us about Mandalore?” Yoda asked. “A threat, without Maul, wouldn’t they be?”

“But they wouldn’t be as much of a threat without Maul as they would be with him,” Obi-wan countered. “I did advise a more firm stance on Mandalore, but I do see the benefit of finishing off the Separatist threat before defending ourselves from the Mandalorian Empire.”

“See your point, I do,” Yoda agreed. “And believe me, you should, that war, I do not want. At the same time, a threat, Maul is. Trained by Darth Sidious, he was. Know what to do, I do not.”

“I am not sure if we should change our strategy,” Obi-wan said thoughtfully. “We have always known that Mandalore is a threat. Maul might make it more of a threat, but it was not the Sith who made Mandalore the Ultimate powerful enough to bring the Old Republic to our knees. If Maul is pushed far enough, he will turn to Dooku, I think. Finishing off Dooku before that is important.”

“But careful, we must be, if Mandalore’s dominance over the outer rim, we do not want,” Yoda sighed. “Assist the Hutts, should we?”

“I don’t like that idea,” Obi-wan grumbled. “Each time we have to work with those overgrown slugs, I feel sick. They’re slavers.”

“Perhaps that is why attacking them, Maul is,” Yoda suggested. “Power, it will bring, without an enemy, making us.”

“That is likely,” Obi-wan agreed. “Maul is many things, including insane, but he is no fool.”

“Speak about this with the council, we must,” Yoda decided.

“I agree,” Obi-wan said, nodding. “I’ll see you then.”

“Have a good day, you must,” Yoda said, and then ended the call. “An order, that is.”

Obi-wan sat back, hoping that he was wrong. But all those coincidences were too perfect to be true. He sighed. Yes, the galaxy was a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obi-wan does not dwell on the fact that, while he was not getting a full night's sleep for months on end, certain clones were running around, conspiring among themselves, and dumping all the caff out of the airlock, all to get their general to have a full night's sleep.


	6. Through Victory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maul spends some time with his brother, and on two recently conquered planets. Despite being close to each other, they are two very different planets, conquered through different means, one sandy and lawless, formerly controlled by the Hutts, and the other beautiful, with a flourishing democracy. One is where a Queen met a slave, and the other is where they married.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I knew where Chapter 6 was going. I didn't. This story very quickly got a lot larger. I was trying to fit it all into one chapter, but eventually I realized that it would be better to split Chapter 6 up into two chapters.

Everything was going according to plan. Or, as his master would say, everything was going as he had forseen, though Maul had not forseen that things would go so well. Both the Republic and the Separatists had, of course, tried to gain their alliance, but when he had declared he was remaining neutral, the Republic had backed off, and the Separatists had complained. When Maul had Deathwatch attack Hutt space, though, nobody had wanted to be his ally any more, so he had been left alone. Which was just excellent for Maul, since he knew he couldn’t conquer the entire galaxy if he was attacked at that moment.

Maul made sure that everyone who knew his name would refer to him as Mand’alor or any variation of that title, and he made sure that no one else found out what his name was. Few even knew that he was a Zabrak – most assumed he was a human, like the majority of Mandalorians. The fact that a majority of Mandalorians would be human was not about to change, Maul knew, but he’d like to make it a bit more obvious that not all Mandalorians were humans. And that was where Ryloth and other planets came in.

Everyone knew that Ryloth, like some other outer rim planets, were mostly defenseless, and were plagued by slavers. Maul also knew (from Sith reports) that Ryloth had a strong culture of fighters, since the people were the only ones who could protect themselves. So he started his war with the Hutts on Ryloth. Through victory, their chains would be broken. And there was nothing as powerful as a breaking chain. Maul forbid his criminal syndicates from the slave trade, ordered them to attack slavers on sight, and he sent Deathwatch to hunt down slavers.

Maul laughed when the people of Ryloth welcomed Deathwatch and signed up in droves to learn how to wage war. Many of them joined Deathwatch, and, for the first time since the founding of Deathwatch, there was a substantial section of Deathwatch that was entirely made up of Tweleks. Maul knew that the Jedi must be watching his actions carefully, wary of how closely Maul’s actions resembled those of Mandalore the Ultimate, but they could not deal with him, since they were busy with the Separatists. Everything was going according to plan.

It took two years for the Separatists to be finally destroyed. Count Dooku was captured, General Grievous was destroyed. Maul sent part of Deathwatch to take several planets of the collapsing Confederacy, and sent the Duchess to bring others into the fold. (Korkie, of course, stayed behind. He was too busy working on a prototype capital ship with Basilisk War Droid capabilities to go with his mother on normal missions). Maul watched as the Mandalorian Empire – his empire – grew and grew. He had his brother and his sister to share his empire with and, when Maul thought of everything he had done, he smiled.

The Hutts were not being very polite, but that was just fine. They threw hastily scrambled together fleets at Maul’s Deathwatch forces that shattered as soon as they came to close to the Deathwatch fleets. Deathwatch grew with Maul’s empire, but they were no longer the same organization that Maul had taken over. For one thing, they were very loyal to Mandalore the Shadow, to Maul. Maul did not think that anyone would be able to take over the Mandalorian Empire the way he had taken over Mandalore.

“Vod!” someone called, interrupting Maul’s gleeful brooding. He turned and saw Savage in full armor. Unlike Maul, who had filed his horns down to fit into a mostly normal helmet, Savage had made a few alterations to his helmet to allow his horns to stay long. Savage’s helmet had several long, hollow points for his horns. Maul had seen Savage use his horns to great effect, punching through armor and flesh. “Su cuy’gar!”

“Vod,” Maul answered, stepping forward to hug his brother. Before Rook had adopted him, Maul knew, he wouldn’t have dreamed of giving his brother a hug. And, he knew, as he looked down and offered a hug to the little terror trailing behind Savage, he hadn’t imagined that he would be happy to see Savage doing his own thing.

“Ba’vodu!” the little terror squeaked, jumping onto Maul. “Su cuy’gar, Mand’alor!”

“Su cuy’gar, vod’ad’ika,” Maul greeted his niece, picking her up. She was a ten year old Zabrak named Kovana, that Savage had found on one of the wars he had lead, a year or so before. She wasn’t Dathomirian, but Maul suspected that Savage would have been more uncomfortable if she looked like a mini Nightsister. Savage’s memories of the Nightsisters were far more detailed than Maul’s, since the only Nightsister Maul had met was Mother Talzin. “Me’vaar ti gar, Kovana?” Maul asked.

“So much!” Kovana exclaimed, squirming a bit in his arms. “I finally convinced Buir to teach me about lighsaber combat, and ba’vodu Rook gave me a blaster for my birthday!”

“Is your buir letting you keep the blaster?” Maul asked.

“No, ba’vodu,” Kovana said sadly. “He says I’m only allowed to have it when I’m supervised. Can you tell him to let me have it all the time?”

“No, Kovan’ika,” Maul laughed. “Savage is your buir, not me. I wouldn’t want to interfere with his duty. And you wouldn’t want me to interfere either. I only eat ration bars. Do you want to eat only ration bars?”

“Ew!” Kovana exclaimed, wrinkling her face into an expression of pure disgust. “How do you survive?” Maul just laughed, and didn’t mention the fact that he’d been eating primarily ration bars since he was 5 years old.

“How did you like my present?” Maul asked, changing the topic.

“I loved it,” Kovana told him, grinning. She raised the hem of her shirt to show him that she was wearing a black bodysuit of armor-weave underneath. That had been Maul’s present to her. “Oh, and I forgot! I also threw a chair at buir! It was an accident, but it was so cool.”

“Really?” Maul asked. “How did you manage that?” Kovana was not really big enough to throw chairs at people, and wouldn’t be for some time.

“Buir says I used the Force, and that you’ll teach me!” Kovana told Maul, grinning. “Can you tell me how to throw people?”

“You would use the same technique you used for throwing the chair,” Maul said, hiding his surprise. “Start with small objects and work your way up to levitating large and multiple objects. We can work on it today, if Savage thinks it’s a good idea.”

“I’m hoping you can teach her more control,” Savage rumbled. “I’m fine with a chair being thrown at me: I had already decided that she wasn’t getting any dessert, and my decision wasn’t about to change. But I don’t want her accidentally throwing things at random people or not being able to throw things at people in self defense.”

“This will be fun,” Maul decided. “Maybe, when Savage says you can, we can go and practice this on real enemies. But for now, the three of us can have fun practicing our force powers together.”

“Best Mand’alor ever!” Kovana declared. “I’d say best ba’vodu, except that ba’vodu Rook makes better cookies.”

The accursed planet could be described with a single word: sand. Well, perhaps that was not true, but there wasn’t much beyond the sand and the ridiculous heat. Maul had never particularly disliked sand, but he suspected it was because he had never spent very much time on sand. Tatooine was giving him a new understanding of why sand was truly awful. The main issue was that it got everywhere, including into Maul’s legs. Maul knew, from his pre-bisection visit to Tatooine, that getting sand inside one’s legs was not a worry that most people with legs had. (Of course, during his pre-bisection visit, Maul had been wise enough to spend very, very little time on sand.) But Maul couldn’t even complain, because he was pretending to have perfectly normal, fleshy legs. If he were to say something like ‘I hate sand, I think it’s getting into the inner workings of my legs,’ there would be questions. So Maul pretended that he was standing triumphantly on Jabba the Hutt’s corpse, instead of simply trying to stay out of range of the sand.

“Excuse me, Mandalore?” someone said in a local accent. Maul turned and saw a young man, clearly a native of Tatooine. He was standing just next to Jabba’s corpse, looking up at Maul.

“Hello,” Maul greeted him. “Who are you and do you need my help?”

“My name is Kitster,” the young man said. He was intimidated, but he didn’t show much fear in his expression. “I live near by, and a number of my neighbors and I would like to know what will happen to Tatooine when the invasion ends. Also, what are you planning to do about slavery?”

“Well, I was planning on doing the same thing to Tatooine as I’ve done to all the planets I’ve conquered,” Maul informed him. “That means that Tatooine will be a full member of the Mandalorian Empire, with all the responsibilities and benefits that entails. That means that the people of Tatooine must follow the laws of the Mandalorian Empire, including the law against slavery. As such, all slaves will be freed. Additionally, Tatooine will need a functioning planetary government. I presume Tatooine doesn’t have anything of the sort?”

“You are correct, sir,” Kitster confirmed. “You are standing on one half of our planetary government.”

“Drop the ‘sir’,” Maul ordered. “I am not so weak that I need a reminded every other sentence that I have power. Are there any informal power structures at all?”

“Not that I know of,” Kitster denied, shaking his head. “Not beyond familial or clan based leaders. The Tuskens have their power structures, of course, as do the Jawas, but the moisture farmers have no leaders, and it’s even more chaotic in towns. The only power structures are centered around crime and other business.”

“That is unfortunate, like the sand,” Maul sighed.

“I’d like to thank you in advance for freeing the slaves,” Kitster said with a bow. “I didn’t think anyone would care enough. I was always told that the Jedi are the ones who would free the slaves, but you have proven that it is the Mandalorian Empire that will free my people. It’s too bad my best friend, Anakin isn’t here to see this – it was his dream to leave Tatooine, and return to free us.”

“Anakin Skywalker?” Maul asked.

“You know Anakin?” Kitster asked in shock.

“I have met him,” Maul answered, trying not to laugh at the coincidences. “And of course, anyone who pays any attention to Republic propaganda knows of Anakin Skywalker, the Hero With No Fear.”

“Not much from the Republic reaches Tatooine,” Kitster sighed. “And smugglers aren’t often interested in telling tales of Republic battles, and I’m not exactly connected to the rumor mill. Thank you for telling me about my friend.”

“You are welcome,” Maul answered. The young man wandered off, and Maul went back to trying to stay away from the sand.

Naboo also had sand, but it was far less omnipresent and irritating than it was on Tatooine. That was but one of the ways Naboo was superior to Tatooine. Another was the weather. The weather on Naboo was far better, warm and far cooler than the all encompassing heat of Tatooine. Maul suspected that the glittering blue waters of Naboo had something to do with it. The third way Naboo was better than Tatooine had nothing to do with the physical aspects of the planets. Instead, it had to do the government. Naboo had a fully functioning government with elections and bureaucracy. That was what had allowed Satine to conquer the planet without a drop of blood spilled or much effort besides that expended by Satine and a few of her subordinates. This was Maul’s favorite type of planet: one that he could mostly leave alone to govern its own affairs, one where he didn’t have to spend the lives of his soldiers to conquer. A few years before, Maul wouldn’t have cared about protecting the lives of those who followed him, but he had changed, and the galaxy had changed with him. Maul smiled as he walked into the cool shade of the palace. (The palace under which, so many years before, Maul had lost his legs, lost his life as the Sith Apprentice.)

Of course, there was one aspect of planets like Naboo that were painful. Namely, diplomacy. While Maul greeted all populated planets into his empire personally, these planets required more than him just standing on the corpse of the planet’s former leader. They required stuff like the parade he would be attending the next day. The Naboo, apparently, liked their parades. Maul breezed through the introductions to various politicians and officials of Naboo. He nodded deeply to the queen and her handmaidens.

“Greetings, your Majesty,” Maul said when most of the people had cleared out of the room. “I believe we have both already agreed to the treaty. When shall we sign it?”

“Does right now work?” the Queen asked. Maul could see little of her beyond her overly dramatic dress, and what little skin was exposed was obscured by almost frightening amounts of makeup. Regardless, the Queen seemed fine and perfectly ready to do whatever she needed to. “I normally wouldn’t suggest doing it right after you arrived, but I thought you might appreciate it.”

“I would appreciate it,” Maul confirmed. “Though I have no doubt your company is delightful, I do have an empire to rule and expand, and I don’t like delegating.”

“Surely you must delegate,” the Queen said, raising an eyebrow and making a few strange gestures that sent a few handmaidens off running. Maul sensed some similarities between the Queen’s hand language and the hand language that Mandalorians used in combat. “Running an entire empire takes an army, doesn’t it? I only rule a planet, but I know I wouldn’t be able to handle a single day without at least some help from the bureaucracy. Someone else has to deal with the parking tickets, you know.”

“I am forced to delegate, of course,” Maul laughed. “I just delegate as little as possible.” He turned to watch as a few of the Queen’s handmaidens dragged in a table and a huge copy of the treaty. After both leaders had signed their names on the treaty, the Queen turned and spoke again.

“Well, that’s done, then,” the Queens said. “All I have to do now is summon my predecessor from the Senate. Padme Amedala is not going to be happy with me.”

“She doesn’t like the Mandalorian Empire?” Maul asked.

“She loves the Republic and democracy,” the Queen corrected. “Which is why I haven’t let her interfere. I’m afraid she might have derailed the talks. As it is, I am still worried that she will find a way to cause some problems.”

“What sorts of problems?” Maul asked. “Because if she might bring an army with her...”

“The good senator wouldn’t do something so drastic,” the Queen disagreed. “During her term as Queen, she protected Naboo from an invasion. It would be unwise to return as the invader. Instead, she will come with a few Jedi bodyguards and possibly attempt to liberate Naboo with the support of the people. As long as the Mandalorian Empire sticks to the treaty, and as long as the people retain faith in me, we will have nothing to worry about.”

“The public can be fickle,” Maul warned.

“I believe I can keep the trust of the people,” the Queen assured him. “I was elected Queen for a reason, after all, and it wasn’t a lack of good opposition. And her ex-Majesty cares about Naboo. If I can convince her this is for the best, I do not think there will be any need for strife.”

“All the same, tell me when she arrives on Naboo and if there are any extra people in her household,” Maul ordered. “If she does bring Jedi, I will take care of the Jedi before they can do any damage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the stage is set for more conflict.
> 
> Comments and kudos feed the dragons!

**Author's Note:**

> Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’vod – I made this one up. It comes from “ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ad”, which literally translates to “I know your name as my child,” and is the traditional Mandalorian words of adoption. Since ad means child, I decided it would make sense to switch it out for vod, which means sibling, hopefully making it translate to “I know your name as my sibling.” I feel like Mandalorians would accept this, since they seem to care about clans as family, and I know they adopt older people (aka adults) into their clans. Plus, what would a Mandalorian do: wait for their parents to adopt someone they want as a sibling, or adopt that person as a sibling themself? I feel like it would be the latter, and therefore a respected part of Mandalorian culture.  
> I created a new adoption oath and used it because Maul already has a mother and a (terrible and absolutely awful) father figure in Darth Sidious. He doesn’t know his mother well and now hates his old father figure, but I don’t think he’d like to replace his mother and he would be disturbed by anyone who tried to act as his father. Plus, I really don’t think Maul would like to obey anyone. He would see any parental adoption of him as a power grab. But with a sibling, he can be the leader, as he is with Savage, so they wouldn’t be as threatening. He also has a relatively good relationship with Savage, so I thought that someone who became his sibling would have a better chance to connect in a real manner with him.  
> Finally, you might wonder why I choose Rook Kast. If one reads her wookipedia page, it becomes obvious that she is very loyal to Maul. Even when she’s just one of his subordinates, she worries about him and saves his life. She is also one of the two to break Maul out of the Spire. The other is Gar Saxon, but he irritates me.
> 
> Comments and kudos feed the dragons!


End file.
